


Your Voice

by suzannahbee123



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Death, Dad!Steve, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Smut, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 13:30:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzannahbee123/pseuds/suzannahbee123
Summary: Loss isn’t new to Steve, but love is.





	Your Voice

He met you in the dark, but you brought him into the light. 

** **

The dark brought clarity that most people would never know, it heightened the senses, destroyed perceptions, and dulled all that shone and hurt the eyes to a point of peace. The dark was safe for those forced to live in the spotlight.

** **

Steve Rogers knew this better than most.

** **

Captain America; the United States golden visage of Truth, Justice and the American Way. The face of Hope and Freedom. Steve Rogers was the man whom belonged to  _ everyone _ , to the Government, to SHIELD, to the whole world. His face was what they saw, his face was what they knew.

** **

Steve Rogers would never belong to  _ anyone  _ because of this. No one would ever belong to  _ him. _

** **

Fame was never a price Steve had been willing to pay, it had never been a consideration. To fight for his country, to uphold the morals and ideals his mother had instilled in him all those years ago, he was willing to do what it took in any situation. He would sell his soul if that’s what they wanted. His soul for billions more?

** **

A fair price.

** **

No one saw, could even  _ tell,  _ with all the brightness surrounding Steve, just how much the darkness was eating at him. SHIELD in shambles, world leaders bickering like children on the playground, and through it all, there he stood.

** **

Alone.

** **

At least until  _ that  _ mission. The one where you changed his life, held him steady in the earthquake, gave him calm in the storm, quiet in the hurricane, stillness in the crashing seas. All it took was one quiet word from you, and an even quieter one from him, like a lodestone, your voice rang through him, anchoring him.

** **

Steve never even saw your face. The power had been cut, total darkness reigned, and people stuck like sardines in a can on the subway. Steve went in, star silver, large and heavy on his chest, talked calm and quietly to the masses…

** **

But they didn’t see him,  _ couldn’t  _ see him in the gloom. His voice meant nothing, Steve Rogers was a  _ face,  _ his voice wasn’t  _ heard,  _ he was never listened to, his real name meant almost nothing to the frightened people.

** **

Chaos brewed, like the bubbles in a heating pan, one hot second from spilling over and burning… until  _ you. _

** **

Your voice.

** **

***

** **

The mission came first, it always had done, but the moments after freeing everyone, seeing them safely to ground level, Steve regretted being who he was. The light blinded after the dark, shooting through his irises, leaving bright half formed images of the street behind his eyelids, and he couldn’t  _ see. _

** **

The woman with that  _ voice  _ was one of the teeming masses, and Steve was Captain America again. Two strangers with no faces.

** **

The threat was ended, the people were safe, Captain America morphed back into Steve Rogers. Alone.

** **

***

** **

_ Skin against skin against bright cotton sheets. Fingers exploring, tongues trailing over exposed hidden places. _

** **

_ “You want this? Want me?” _

** **

_ “Yes, yes, Steve…” _

** **

_ The way your body arched under him, the soft way your clothes had hit the floor, not a moment’s hesitation in the shedding of them… _

** **

_ “Like that?” _

** **

_ Your moan, so  _ pretty,  _ filled the dark space. Slick, hot and wet and smelling so  _ good,  _ against his fingers. Steve couldn’t see your smile but he  _ felt  _ it against the skin of his neck. _

** **

_ “Were you always this good with your hands?” _

** **

_ “I don’t know… been a long time since anyone was in a position to tell me.” _

** **

_ Your eyes glitter, mischievous enough for Steve to be enraptured in the black gloom of the hotel room, _

** **

_ “How about this position?”  _

** **

_ Steve swallows. Your thighs open wider around his hips, his fingers find themselves with  _ more  _ to explore. _

** **

_ “Am I in a good enough position to tell you that your hands are magic, Steve?” _

** **

_ *** _

** **

Steve Rogers first sees you in a coffee shop, the nice quiet one tucked away on a street in Brooklyn, one he remembers having small run down houses filled with large happy families, who were barely managing after the Depression. Now; coffee shops, boutiques and exclusive apartments with built in washer/dryers and concierge services littered the pristine block.

** **

Everything changes, especially him. Still, coffee tasted better than before, so that was nice.

** **

Cinnamon, spice, bitter coffee and sweet baked goods, all good scents, nice scents, the smells of hard work and good money spent. Warm air, happy chatter and the hissing of the industrial sized coffee maker. 

** **

Usually these were sounds and smells that Steve loved, they made him safe, another face no one knew in the small crowd, just another body filling pockets of air and asking for a pumpkin spice frappuccino. Not Steve Rogers, Captain America.

** **

A stranger.

** **

The anonymity was usually something to be treasured, nurtured… but that morning it had been a burden. A choking weight around his neck. 

** **

Bucky had recently been identified as The Winter Soldier, and now he was gone. Again.

** **

Tony has inadvertently unleashed Ultron, and the bad blood still ran too thick and too salty between them.

** **

Thor was back at Asgard, Natasha looked for Bruce, and Clint had his family to care for. 

** **

And Steve was surrounded by people who only saw the star on his chest and not the man beneath it, who only cared for his coffee order, and not about why he was always on his own. 

** **

The hissing of the machine became a growl. The warm air felt cloying, and the happy chatter became a roar of  _ noise. _ The urge to bolt, to run, to punch his way out of this situation was strong, the paper cup bent in his palm-

** **

“Sir, are you okay? You want to share my table?”

** **

_ There. _

** **

That  _ voice.  _ Your voice.

** **

The panic retreated, and the face that met his eyes when he could lift them…  _ your  _ face…

** **

Steve bought more coffee. You bought muffins. A girl and a guy meeting for real for the first time.

** **

***

** **

_ “Darlin’, I think you could tell me the sky was pink, and I would believe you right now,” _

** **

_ It was a joke, mumbled against the soft, sweet smelling skin of your stomach. The smell of you, the promise of your  _ taste,  _ was like a siren song to his senses. Sure, he could drown in the pleasure of you, the sweet salt and musk of your most secret treasure… but Steve had died before, been frozen in time… to die in the  _ life  _ of you, that  _ he  _ had helped coax from your centre,  _ that  _ was a death he wanted to sacrifice his life for. _

** **

_ The first touch of your silk soft skin, shiny and  _ perfect,  _ on his tongue was like nirvana. Heaven in petal soft wrapping.  _

** **

_ Steve had been with other women, but never had he tasted anything as sensually beautiful as you. Enraptured on the first delicate lick of his tongue. Enamoured when your fingers pulled strands of his hair, tugging his impossibly closer. _

** **

_ When your release came, thick and heady, Steve was addicted. His name- _

** **

_ “S-Steve! Oh, Steve!” _

** **

_ The way his name had changed from your pretty lips as he created pleasure in your body, private, quiet, and so so soft, had done more for his ego than all the people in the world chanting “Captain America”  _ ever  _ could. _

** **

_ Limp and incoherent, your smile still stretches as Steve rises over you, tugging at his already in love heart, _

** **

_ “Can I make love to you, darlin’?” _

** **

_ “Yes, Steve, please,” _

** **

_ *** _

** **

To date Captain America was hard.

** **

To fall in love with Steve Rogers was easy.

** **

To make it work took skill and planning. Thankfully, Steve had this skill in spades, and  _ you  _ had the patience of a saint.

** **

Nights walking under the stars. Days driving out to quieter towns. Hours snatched in between work and missions.

** **

And in between it all, Steve would tempt kisses from your sweet mouth, tasting the honey and vanilla lip balm off of you, enticing more and more sweet nothings from that beautiful calming voice of yours.

** **

His name from your throat, husky in barely withheld pleasure could soothe all the stress in the world. And Steve Rogers currently held far too much stress and not enough resolution. He should feel shame at how much  _ want  _ he had for you, how much need… but the way your face would light up in a smile the lights of NYC could  _ never  _ hope to match when you saw him…

** **

This was a secret dream that Steve didn’t want to wake up from.

** **

Like a dark cloud swallowing the bright sunlight, the coming fight between Steve and Tony could not be ignored. 

** **

He knew about what Bucky, no,  _ The Winter Soldier,  _ had done. What HYDRA had done, to Tony’s parents. It ate away at him. To tell or not to tell? As ever, he asked you, needed the clarity your mind could bring.

** **

“I think you should tell Tony. Calm and clear and no accusations. This is  _ his  _ business, even as it is yours. It’s a knowledge you should  _ share  _ with him. Maybe he could help you find your friend?”

** **

Steve should’ve listened to you.

** **

***

** **

_ More pleasure first, his fingers coaxing more slick, more pretty moans and more  _ life  _ from you. It was a pleasure all of its own, to give without receiving, to entice so much sweet tasting  _ love  _ from you… _

** **

_ Until your deft fingers wrapped around his length, oh he  _ pulsed,  _ the warmth your touch brought almost enough to undo him… _

** **

_ “Steve, please… I need you in me…” _

** **

_ No man was strong enough to not heed that beautiful voice, and certainly not Steve Rogers, whose strength could match ten men, but who was still that sickly young man at heart. _

** **

_ The serum enhanced his DNA, but it was  _ you  _ who strengthened his heart. _

** **

_ Moans, his and yours, filled the hotel room. The hot, tight fit of you, sensually wet, scalding like a brand… he fit so snuggly inside, like this was where he had always meant to be. _

** **

_ When he moved, you did too. Hands tracing curves and dips and hollows, indulgently, lips following behind. Tongues tangling, and your fingers leaving indents in the muscles of his back. _

** **

_ Steve wanted that. Wanted your marks on him, permanent, unbreakable, so deep that no serum would ever heal it. _

** **

_ The sheets, coarse, garish, and smelling faintly of someone else’s body spray, bunches and rucks up from the edges. Passion too strong to  _ not  _ get a little wild. Thrusts became deeper, harder, gasps and moans became chants, yells, his name and your name falling from lips like a prayer, a benediction. _

** **

_ Pleasure, life, joy, love, all of it and more, it grew and grew, and when your inner walls clamped down on him, the slick of you became wet, Steve fell into bliss right behind you. Left part of himself with you. _

** **

_ “Steve?” _

** **

_ “Yes, darlin’?” _

** **

_ “Be careful in London?” _

** **

_ “I will, Y/N… I will,” _

** **

_ A pause, soft and loud, filled the air between them… Steve knew what he wanted to say, but- was it too soon? _

** **

_ “I love you, Steven Grant Rogers. Come back soon.” _

** **

_ Your voice, that beautiful  _ beautiful  _ voice, it mended the break that had cracked his heart since hearing of Peggy’s death in that moment. Of  _ course  _ he would come back to you. _

** **

_ *** _

** **

When Steve had heard of his former flame’s death, of how Peggy had finally passed in her sleep, it had been the final proverbial nail in his proverbial coffin.

** **

The Accords were coming, his team, his  _ family,  _ was about to be torn apart. Bucky was still gone, and whilst no news was good news, it also meant there was never any  _ rest. _

** **

And Peggy… dear Peggy.

** **

Representing his lost life not lived, now  _ gone… _

** **

Of course he went to you. To your work at the veterinary clinic, and  _ begged  _ you to come with him, just for an hour… who else could he talk to?

** **

It was wrong, selfish even, but he  _ needed  _ you, that voice, that love, that  _ life.  _ You were his future, his anchor, and all he wanted was your love before he said goodbye to his past.

** **

The hotel was near, was cheap, and didn’t even look up at Steve Rogers as he took a woman into a room that charged by the hour.

** **

It didn’t matter. Your voice led him through the hall and into the room. The best night of his life.

** **

Before the worst.

** **

***

** **

The endgame had never been to leave you behind, to start a war over an old friend. Loyalty had run deep, though, Bucky Barnes has held it for longer than anyone else.

** **

Going on the run had been the hardest thing he had ever had to do. To leave you, to stay away, had frozen him, broken him. Steve had thought that keeping you at a distance had been hard, telling you to move on, in  _ letters,  _ had been painful… but worse was always going to happen.

** **

That was just his life.

** **

***

** **

_ “Steve…” _

** **

_ Your voice, Steve hadn’t heard it in close to two years… the sound of it soothed the jagged edges, the sharp needles in his soul. _

** **

_ “I need to tell you something… I was a coward for not telling you earlier…” _

** **

_ A coward? You? _

** **

_ “Darlin’, we can talk later, okay? But you saw what happened in Manhattan earlier. I need you to get somewhere safe, remote… in case… just in case, Y/N.” _

** **

_ Wakandan armies ran around him, Bucky and Sam and Nat organising troops with Okoye and T’Challa. Thanos was coming and they would be ready, there was no other choice. _

** **

_ “Steve, wait- I-” _

** **

_ “You can tell me after, okay? Once this is over, I  _ promise  _ I’m coming back for you!” _

** **

_ “It won’t just be me you’ll be coming back for, Steve… you didn’t leave me alone,” _

** **

_ His name was Liam Steven. Named for her father… and his own father. Thirteen months old. _

** **

_ Words meant nothing now. Only actions. Only  _ winning.

** **

_ It didn’t work out like that though… as if it ever would. _

** **

_ The journey back to New York was fraught. Just the sound of a trilling ring and  _ not  _ your voice as Steve wanted,  _ needed.

** **

I lost Bucky… please not you too, please not my son…

** **

_ The prayer on repeat in his head, all the way to your door… only the sound of a baby crying to answer his repeated buzzing. _

** **

_ His son, Liam, had his eyes, had a loud angry wail and tiny fists already scrunched up ready to fight, just like his dad.  _

** **

_ You were gone though. For five years, your voice was gone. _

** **

_ *** _

** **

“Steve?”

** **

“Yes, Nat?”

** **

“You might want to come look at this,”

** **

Only for Nat, the one constant he had had in his life since being forced into this new one in a new time, would bring him away from his sleeping son. Liam had been playing ball with him all day, happiness and simple joy lighting up his small face.

** **

He looked so much like you it hurt.

** **

“What is it?”

** **

“It’s… Scott.”

** **

Hours later, after a hurried discussion and a tense trip, Liam and Morgan playing together in easy friendship that their fathers still lacked, Steve sat with his boy, excited tension vibrating through him almost enough to shatter his bones.

** **

“Daddy? Is everything going to be okay now?”

** **

“I hope so, kid… I hope so,”

** **

Easy acceptance, his son had only ever known love. The loss of his mother was known, but not understood, and he had Auntie Nat there to help dry tears from scraped knees and give him all the peanut butter sandwiches in the world.

** **

“I’m sleepy, can you tell me a story?”

** **

Settle back against the pillow, pull his little boy closer… Steve knew just the tale,

** **

“Once upon a time, a man from a different era-”

** **

“What’s an era?”

** **

“A different, long ago time, Liam,”

** **

“Like pirates?”

** **

The chuckle was easy, warming his heart in the way only his baby could do nowadays,

** **

“Sure, just like those pirates… so a man from a different era, met a woman, and she had the world’s most  _ beautiful  _ voice…”

** **

Steve told the story of how you met to Liam, throwing in Blackbeard and Long John Silver just to hear his boy laugh. He told him how you loved him, how he loved you, and how  _ excited  _ you would be to see him again.

** **

“Soon, Buddy… soon we’ll hear your mom’s voice again. Soon,”

** **

This time, Steve wouldn’t fail. Your voice called to him, and he would hear it.


End file.
